Playing Doctor
by Danny Bailey
Summary: Sirius is visited by a young doctor’s assistant. What follows is an experience that will haunt them both. This is Sirius/Remus implied slash, but it is NOT fluff.


**Title: Playing Doctor  
****Author: Airam  
****Author E-mail: airam_ect@hotmail.com  
****Category: Drama, Angst  
****Rating: PG-13  
****Spoilers: Major spoilers for the third book.**

  
**Summary: Sirius is visited by a young doctor's assistant. What follows is an experience that will haunt them both. This is Sirius/Remus implied slash, but it is NOT fluff.**

**Author's Notes: Enjoy! Thank you to my beta Cathy (aka Jive / Caitríona Briana) and to my personal support system. (In a word, Karli). Review with constructive criticism or glowing praise. J Thank you!**

**Disclaimer: I own Annetia, and the sailor and his coracle. I do not own the other characters in this story. They are divvied up into parts by JK Rowling, Bloomsbury, Scholastic, and other places, I think. They also own the characters' situations. I am not making any money off this story and I don't intend copyright infringement. Thank you!       **

A young man lay on a dirty bed with his face to the wall and his hands drawn to his chest in a fetal position. His breathing was heavy and slow; mainly because his body protested each breath he drew. The darkness around him, the crushing blackness, was impenetrable, but the young man was unperturbed, and even used to it by now. To be truthful, he was much more bothered by his hair, which hung in greasy black clumps from his head. He slowly reached to finger a dreadlock that was forming at the base of his neck. This unfortunate condition caused him a certain amount of distress, particularly when his subconscious mind plagued him with comparisons to another greasy haired individual, one that remained known to him only in the dim recesses of memory.

~*~*~ 

            At the same time, another young man sat in the stern of a small coracle, trying to hunch further into his already soaking cloak. It was a very futile attempt to block the cascading rain and sea spray from it's brutal assault on his face. As he hunched he thought about where he was going, and how he would handle this ordeal when he got there. Would he be able to face those prisoners, dying slowly in their tiny cells? They hurt themselves, the man knew. They were driven to hurt themselves by those evil, putrid, monsters that haunted the giant fortress that loomed ahead of him. 

            _What have I gotten myself into? _

Truthfully, going to the Azkaban fortress had never been his idea to begin with. Only bad memories lurked for him there. He had been quite resolute about not setting foot on the isle, but the mediwizard he worked for, a charitable man who claimed he was sent to be an 'angel of mercy' to all those who suffer, had sent him nevertheless. This doctor apparently intended to begin his ministry with those in Azkaban by sending his assistant, Remus, there to do physical evaluations of all the prisoners, hoping to be able to offer them any help he could. That is why the young man sat in the boat, captained by an old hired sailor who had charged the cheapest fare. 

            The man turned his chocolate-brown eyes upward, to the overcast sky. Although the rain fell into his eyes he continued to look up into the heavens. Was it always raining in this place? It did seem that way. And despite the raging waters of the North Sea there was an eerie quiet that played about the small boat. 

_How odd. Had any prisoners, now in the jail, ever ridden in this boat that he rode in at the moment? _

_Had Sirius? _

It was a strange idea that perhaps Sirius, his Sirius, had ridden in this very boat, on this very seat even. Were his hands tied behind his back? Had they charmed him to be silent? There had been a silencing charm placed on him at "The Hearing",  as is had come to be called. He had cried, the man remembered, and it was assumed that he had cried tears of frustration, or maybe of pain. Still, it had been positively heart wrenching to see Sirius, the infallible Sirius, with those tears in his eyes. 

~*~*~

            Annetia, the Warden of Azkaban, sat at her desk. She monotonously went through the daily motions of her job, exerting as little effort as possible as she went through the endless sheaf of yearly reports, one for every prisoner in the fortress, to be filled out. She was untroubled by the throngs of dementors that resided in the ancient castle with her and her charges. It was a hereditary trait not to be affected by the demons, one that had, consequentially, landed her on this godforsaken island to begin with. Yet that was another story, one to be told another day.

Suddenly the bell on the clock that sat upon the mantle struck the hour. Ten times it tolled. _God, __the day has only just begun. Then she remembered, today would be different. A man was due to visit today, a young man. What was his name? Annetia checked her date book. Remus, oh yes, Remus. Of course. He would in fact be arriving any time. His appointment was for ten, but the sea around this island would determine when he would actually show up._

Only a little after ten a dementor swept into Annetia's office, showing a young man through the door. The man that now stood before her was no real sight, he was soaking wet turning his hair into a mass of matted chestnut  tangles. His beige cloak dripped onto the floor leaving a sizeable puddle Annetia would have to mop up. But for now it would stay where it was. Annetia stood to greet the young man.

            "Remus." Her voice was startling as it broke through the stony silence. "Welcome to Azkaban. Come in and let me take your coat."

            Remus gratefully removed his saturated garment and handed it to Annetia, trading for a blanket she held out for him. The cloak that Annetia now held was icy cold with seawater. 

            "Would you like something to drink? Tea? Hot chocolate," she asked him. 

            "Hot chocolate would be wonderful," Remus replied in a grateful voice. "I want to thank you again for letting me do this Miss," he paused, "-O'Day, right? 

            "Yes, Annetia O'Day," she assured him. "And it's really no problem. It's not as though I have much else to occupy my time." She smiled.  

            She observed Remus' preoccupied air with curiosity, but put it from her mind.

            "Now come Remus, let's begin."

~*~*~

            Sirius, in his dog form, caught the scent of hot chocolate before he noticed anything else. Momentarily, he wondered where it came from, or if perhaps it was his mind playing tricks on him again. 

Then noises in the hall told him that was not the case. Two quiet voices manifested themselves at that moment. A woman's voice, which had to be the warden's, and a man's spoke quietly together. There were in this hallway, walking down the high security wing. Sirius immediately reverted to his human form and sat down to wait for the newcomers to pass his door. 

            It seemed that they had stopped somewhere before Sirius' cell. Sirius waited for them to continue on their way but they did not. Time passed slowly and Sirius sat on the bed so long that his neck began to ache. The warden and her companion were not to be seen today. Slowly, with disappointment, he lay himself down onto the cot and, for the first time, didn't cringe at the dirty moth-eaten blanket.

~*~*~

            The physicals were time consuming. One separate exam had to be preformed on each person and they took about ten minutes each. Annetia had led him through the labyrinth of a jail, giving him some background on each man -or woman- he examined. By the time they got to the high security wing, which Annetia had reserved for last, Remus had gone through 7 cups of hot chocolate and showed no signs of slowing.

            The physical exams in the high security wing were the hardest for Remus. Not only were the prisoners difficult to be around, they were always uncooperative and often violent, but the thought that Sirius' cell was one of the many that sat off of this long looming hallway was unthinkable. Remus dreaded and, at the same time, anticipated his inevitable meeting with Sirius. He wondered what his old friend would look like. How long had it been since he had seen him last? Ten months, Remus believed. Ten months since the world had turned upside down and Sirius had gone away and he, Remus, was left alone. 

            "We've had quite a stir over this next one, Mr. Lupin, as I'm sure you've heard."

            Remus heart jumped at Annetia's words. Would Sirius be in the next cell? Could he sense him as he walked down the hall? Then, suddenly, Remus's heart fell back down. How could he forget what Sirius had done? What could he say to him? There was nothing to say now; Sirius was different. Remus was filled with a cold fear, preventing him from replying to Annetia. Instead, he just nodded. She didn't seem to notice or to mind for she continued talking.

            "Yes, in fact though, he's been rather sedate in his time here so far. When I told the press that, I believe they were rather put out. I think they were hoping for crazed anguish. They just don't understand the way the dementors operate. Either way Mr. Lupin, this one is an odd one, that's for sure." Ignoring Remus's revolted look she continued with her chatting. "He's so quiet. So…off. Did you know when they brought him here he wasn't conscious. He woke up soon though, but for five days he never said a word. He cried a fair bit mind you, and he paced all around the little cell, but the odd thing is that these dementors usually have them screaming and babbling after the first day. But he never said a word for five day. It was strange."  She threw a look to Remus, who walked behind her, and then continued. "If you'll just step aside so I might open the door, please?" 

            Remus stepped back from the cell they had stopped in front of. He hadn't realized this was it. In a few seconds he would be seeing Sirius. If his suspicions were correct. He forced his feet to move as Annetia proceeded to pull out her skeleton key and her wand. She swiftly unlocked the door and swung it open to admit Remus, who was now trembling quite violently. 

            Slowly, Remus stepped through the threshold and into the dank cell. There was a small window in the room, which looked out onto the tempest sea. There was a toilet bucket, and a tin plate also. Remus noticed none of these details. His eyes, once adjusted to the dim light, were drawn instantly to the low bed in the furthest corner were a man now lay. Sirius. It had to be. Although the man faced the wall, it could be no other. The long, tangled ink-black hair, once so shiny and soft, was unmistakable. Remus must have made a noise suddenly for the man stirred and slowly rose. 

As though he had sensed that there was a person in the room with him, Sirius had turned. It was then that Remus got a good look at him. Sirius had changed immensely in these past ten months. He was thinner that he had ever been, and his skin was pallid from being cramped into a small, closed in place for so long. It looked as though his nose had been recently broken, for he had two swollen black eyes. His hair was tangled and it hung, limp and greasy, from his head, framing his gaunt face. But it was most undeniably Sirius. His beautiful Sirius, now living in hell for what he did. Should he be angry or - should he forgive? 

~*~*~

            Sirius stared at the man who stood in his cell. Apparently Annetia chose to bring her guest by him after all. For one crazed moment, Sirius believed that the man was here to take him back to the Ministry, to hurt him again. The moment passed and Sirius realized who this stranger standing before him was.  Remus. But how could that be? _Remus would have no reason to be here, Sirius thought with anger. Remus hated him; hadn't he professed that in front of the world at The Hearing? Then his heart softened; perhaps Remus had discovered the truth. What if he was here to save him? To apologize and take him away? _

            "Remus," he breathed. Slowly, he took a step toward him. Remus looked like he didn't know what to do. He didn't move or speak. Swallowing, Sirius spoke again. 

"Hello, Remus." Abruptly, Remus' amazed expression hardened. He stepped toward Sirius with a professional air. 

"Black," he said, and with such utter apathy that Sirius flinched. His normally friendly cinnamon eyes, so deep brown, were cold and unfeeling, and his ramrod posture showed that he was not here to rescue anyone. It was as though they were strangers, as though they had never known each other as they surely once had. 

It was then that something inside Sirius died. Some spark that had remained with him though everything, after that awful night at Godric's Hollow and the fateful day that followed, after they had tried to beat it out of him at The Hearing, even after the months he had spent, alone, in this freezing prison. It was then that he really saw how much the gap, no, the chasm, between he and Remus had grown. No matter how much Sirius wished it, Remus cared for him no longer. Slowly, he backed away until his legs hit the bed against the wall. Numbly, he sank onto it and drew his legs up against him. Resting his head on his knees he tried to think of happier times, times when Remus –and the rest of the world- hadn't hated him. 

~*~*~

Suppressing his surprise as best he could, Remus stepped forward to Sirius, who now sat on the bed. Slowly, he took out his papers. 

"I have to ask you a few questions, Black." He spoke sternly. Why was he doing this? Why was he treating Sirius this way? Of course, there was the small matter of his betrayal and murder. Sirius was, Remus could hardly bring himself to think it, evil. The Dark Lord's right hand man. Why shouldn't he speak to him with malice? But, it was still Sirius. It was still that young boy who had befriended him without a second thought, and who had cried over his wounded body in the hospital wing one day after his transformation. It was Sirius, who had braved so much, and who understood, and who he had loved. 

But not anymore. 

~*~*~

Remus stood there and asked him questions. Sirius answered indifferently letting the monotonous words of his old friend flow over him like a drowning flood. Sirius wondered what Remus was doing here, asking him questions about his health and stumbling over awkward queries about the current state of his genitalia. 

He hardly noticed Remus come to stand near him. Suddenly, he was shaken out of his reverie by a hand on his arm. How long had it been since he had been touched by another human? The clouds seemed to clear from his mind and all he could feel was anger. That familiar temper was brewing inside him, and who was he to control it? 

Sirius stood up suddenly, and pushed past Remus. He stood facing the wall on the other side of the cell. Slowly, he turned to look at the other man. Despite the anger that threatened to choke him before he got the words out, he managed to whisper one thing. "Why?"

It was such a simple little word, but one in which Sirius was so well versed. How many times had it been whispered in his ear when he had been blindfolded at The Hearing? How many times had those scathing lips approached him, leant in close to his head, breathed into his hair? 'Why did you do it Black? Why?' Never once did the lips say, 'I understand', or 'I believe you'. No one understood because no one believed, and no one believed because no one understood, and that was why he was here. 

But Remus, why was Remus here? Why did he come here and raise hopes, only to dash them back against the floor? What game was he playing? _What a cruel thing to do, Sirius thought. For Remus, coming here was a big joke. "Who's laughing, Remus?" _

It was as if those three words had broken the floodgates and brought forth a deluge. Every horrible tortured thought in his head was brought forth and they came out of his mouth in long streams and sometimes in great bursts.  Between angry expressions he gasped for air and went on with his torrent. He didn't slow when the warden ran through the door or when he was thrown to the ground. Only when the dementor placed a decaying hand over his mouth and nose did he finally stop. 

~*~*~

Remus went through the standard questions that he had to ask every person who he examined. Sirius' answers were vague and his eyes were clouded over as he spoke. Remus felt a pang in his heart that Sirius would allow this to happen to himself. When the questions had all been asked Remus moved to stand over Sirius. This part of the examination was sure to be awkward. He had to scan for loss of muscle tissue and any signs of the neurological problems that were so common of the residents of Azkaban. 

Cautiously, he placed a hand on Sirius's arm prompting him to stand. It was as though by touching Sirius, Remus had flipped a switch of some kind; Sirius stood from the bed and crossed the room to stand facing the wall. As he turned around to look at him Remus saw an odd look in his eyes that had not been there before. They were still the same dark eyes that had looked at him a thousand times, but now they no longer showed any emotion. They were like mirrors. The images that played before them were reflected back, and they showed no feeling. 

One word escaped Sirius' mouth then. Slowly his lips moved to form it and when he spoke his voice shook and threatened to crack. "Why?" 

For a few very long moments they both stood there, Sirius lost in his thoughts, and Remus observing him. _Why? That was the very question that Remus would have asked him. But now the tables were turned around. How was it that Sirius could make Remus feel so many emotions with one simple word? And how was it that he justified asking __Remus why? _

Suddenly, as though they had been in the middle of a conversation, Sirius spoke again. "Who's laughing, Remus?" He spoke with menace in his words, and then they began to come faster, and harder and the things he said were things that Remus never expected to hear from anyone in this life, much less from Sirius. He poured out accusations and descriptions until he was hoarse.

"Who's laughing, Remus? Go on tell me…"

"You let them send me to this hell, Remus, and now you're here and you can't take it? What's wrong, Remus, don't I look the same? Am I sick, Remus…"

"Do you know what they did, Remus? Do you want me to tell you what they did to me? What, you can't even hear about it? You don't want to hear it, Remus, so you close your eyes and you cover your ears. Well let me tell you what they did…"

"Why, Remus? A thousand whys and I don't have the answers. You don't believe me but I committed no crime. So now I rot. Because no one believes. I thought I could count on you, Remus…"

"What are you doing here, Remus? Did you think you could help me by coming here with your medicines, and your questions, and your beautiful skin? Did you think that's what I needed? You didn't think very hard then, Remus…"

"It's a great bloody game for you, isn't it, Remus? You come here playing doctor in your fancy suit and you don't even think. Not at all…"

Wave after wave hit Remus with the force of a head on broom collision. Did this prove Sirius was crazy, or did it perhaps prove that he was sane? Oh God, why did he have to come here? Why did he have to set this ticking bomb off? Of course, this wasn't Sirius' fault, he should have known, and what could Sirius have done? Stupid, Lupin, that's what you are. Stupid. 

Remus watched in horror as the warden ran into the cell and went at Sirius. He put up little resistance until she threw him to the ground in an effort to silence him. Sirius bucked against the hands that pushed down onto his chest, holding him there. Still he screamed at Remus. Annetia called for a guard and within moments a dementor swept in. Kneeling, the monster put a bony hand over Sirius's face, and slowly he went quiet. 

Remus stood in the cell, breathing hard, barely believing what had just taken place. With wide eyes he watched as the dementor picked Sirius up with one hand and threw him at the bed. The body landed with a thud, and the growl of wood scraping stone. Remus quickly moved to the bed and looked down at Sirius, who was bleeding from under his hair where his head had hit the wall. Before the warden or the dementor could stop him he reached down and straightened Sirius out on the bed, pulling the tattered blanket up over his body. Unabated, a single tear dropped from Remus's cheek and landed amid the tangle of ebony hair that spread out on the bed where there should have been a pillow. Slowly, almost reluctantly, Remus stood up from the bed and the body of the convict that had been his friend. 

The warden approached him and put an arm around his shoulder. Quietly she spoke, "I think maybe you should go now, Mr. Lupin. Thank you for coming; I'm so sorry this had to happen."

Remus nodded and let her usher him out of the cell. The door slammed with a crash of metal, but Remus never looked back. 

~*~*~

By the time Sirius woke Remus was long gone. There was, in fact, no evidence that he had been there at all. Only memory. Sirius sat on the bed as he tried to stop himself from shaking so violently, telling himself that it was only the cold. But it wasn't really the cold. It was the loneliness. Remus had left him. 

Remus was gone, and he was alone. 

~*~*~

Remus sat in pensive silence as the old man rowed him back to the shore. He hardly noticed the storm that was threatening to overtake their little boat, or the chill air that was turning his nose and cheeks ruddy. He was lost in daydreams, his thoughts running from the past that he tried so hard to forget, to the future that he couldn't even begin to imagine.

He didn't want to think about returning to work and having to interact with people, or of his transformation, which loomed over the next weekend. He didn't really want to think at all. He wanted to be numb. Ignorant. Naïve. He didn't want to know what went on in that fortress or in the minds of those tortured souls. For all that he had been with so many people today, and had spoken to Sirius, the only living person in this world who he had ever called a friend, he felt so inescapably lonely. James had been taken from him, and Peter just a day after, and no matter how he had tried to tell himself the Sirius mattered to him no more, it had not been true. Sirius had mattered because he was the only one left, and Remus didn't want to feel abandoned. But now, after seeing it in his eyes and seeing his emotions, or lack thereof, Remus knew. 

He was alone. 


End file.
